I never thought that the older I got, the more latina I would get. No, I have never liked the taste of rice in my mouth, and I find the smell of beans revolting. Also, as a non-meat eater, a good 75% of Dominican cuisine is off limits. But the things I did find tolerable growing up have developed a strange charm and so last week during our visit to the farmer’s market once I saw platanos maduros I had to buy them.
(They have not yet)
Hugh was there with me and though I did tell him about my plan to make the pastelon, I don’t think that his Scottish Texan mind registered that those were platanos maduros.
(You can imagine where this is going, right?)
“Bananas? We don’t have any bananas. Those are definitely not bananas.”
I do have to give my beloved gringo some credit because he does recognize platanos as the main ingredient in mofongo and he can eat yaniqueques like nobody’s business. He likes Dominican coffee and now knows at least 10 more Spanish words than he did before we were together.
I find his low latino IQ endearing and wanna eat him up when he messes up.
I am sure I can also be charming when he talks about kippers like I know what that is.
Multi cultural relationships add an extra layer of intimacy I think. The mere act of not knowing, makes you a little more vulnerable and a little more trusting. I have heard of multi cultural relationships that don’t work out because of the differences. I think that if one can’t embrace the differences and assimilate them into every day life, then the relationship is doomed from the get go.
I love this relationship. Kippers, platanos maduros & all.